


You're Each Beat Of My Heart

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: When Mick had said such things, with as much passion as his carefully monotone voice could muster, Nikki had frozen up like a goddamn idiot. He had stared at Mick the first time, torn between terror and confusion and worry, a million words coming to mind but not a single one appropriate for such a situation, and then Mick had nodded and turned back to his guitar.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	You're Each Beat Of My Heart

Three little words, so delicate, so simple - men and women and children had been saying it for a millennia, and would be saying it for a millennia more. It took roughly three seconds to say such words, to push them out from the depths of a twised mind and be tossed out into the open. Usually, it took five more for the person being told such a thing to reply with equal fervor or, at least, return the given words. 

It shouldn't have been so hard to say those three words. Nobody else seemed to harbor such a problem. Tommy tossed them around like free candy on Halloween and good old Vince seemed to whisper it into a select whore's ear every Tuesday, although the specifics varied. 

Hell, even Mick had said the words, several times to his girlfriends, none of whom deserved to hear them from him, and thrice to Nikki. 

God, what was it with three's? 

When Mick had said such things, with as much passion as his carefully monotone voice could muster, Nikki had frozen up like a goddamn idiot. He had stared at Mick the first time, torn between terror and confusion and worry, a million words coming to mind but not a single one appropriate for such a situation, and then Mick had nodded and turned back to his guitar. 

Easy, right? Mick had understood, in a silent, understanding manner that Nikki appreciated but hated at the same time. ' _Yell at me! Be betrayed!'_ Nikki had thought, a cigarette dangling from his lips as his pencil went limp between his fingers, but Mick hadn't seemed so much as bothered by anything that say. 

The second time, Nikki had come back from the dead (figuratively? literally?) and came back into a world full of chaos. Vince had been sobbing in grief and Tommy had been tearing up his goddamn living room and Mick had been a silent ghoul, keeping it together until they were alone, and then he'd grabbed Nikki by his hand.

Mick had intense eyes, dark and angry, but beneath was a thick veil of sadness, his face twisted and red, unusual from his usual color. "You need help, Nik." He had said in a low, calm voice. "I did not - _give_ my life to you for you to goddamn kill yourself." He'd paused. "I love you, Nik. And I'm not gonna fucking die before you." The words had been spoken. 

Startled, Nikki could only stare, all wide, green eyes, wanting to ask 'why' but not trusting himself to, and Mick had only smiled sadly, squeezing his hand befpre letting it fall. 

And then, nearly one year later, when Nikki had gone to rehab and dozing off on the couch during one of Vince's recording sessions and Mick had been reading one of his books, but his whisper of "I love you" had somehow seemed so much louder than Vince's vocal exercises and Tommy's accompanying laughter. 

Nikki hadn't open his eyes, but his shoulders had tensed and his mind had gone crazy, demanding to know the technicalities of why Mick kept saying it and demanding for Nikki to say it back but he couldn't. 

He just couldn't. 

\----

That had been five months ago precisely, and now Nikki was trying to force himself to say those three words, to spit them out, to do something, anything at all, as they lay in bed. 

Mick was watching television, having fallen silent after telling Nikki that he should go wash the smeared makeup off of his face, but had only rolled his eyes when the bassist had asked if Mick would make him do it. On the grainy TV, there seemed to be some kind of frantic competition going on. 

As he smoked a cigarette, Nikki wanted to kick himself at his own perceived cowardice. ' _Just tell him! He already says it, now it's your turn, asshole!'_ Nikki's little voice in his head sounded like Mick, and it creeped him out. 

The time was ticking, and it sounded ominous, final - like a ticking time bomb. 

"I - " Nikki paused, his mouth dry. His fingers twisted in the sheets, and he fought off the innate urge to turn the cigarette onto his skin and feel it burn. "I - fuck." He breathed out and looked down at his torn jeans, feeling disappointed and upset, and he didn't complain when Mick leaned over and grabbed the cigarette, even though Nikki had appreciated the option. 

On the television, people were laughing, laughing, and they _were laughing at him because he couldn't say three little words to the one person who deserved to hear them the most! Because he was pathetic and couldn't be brave enough to muster up the courage for three...goddamn... **WORDS!**_

Nikki wanted that cigarette again - he needed to punish himself for not being brave enough, but Mick was staring at him from the corner of his eye and Nikki felt himself calm down, if only a little. "I love - love - you." It was awkward and imperfect and Nikki hated that it took so long. 

But that was their life, wasn't it? Rough around the edges, but it was the most stable thing either of them had ever heard, and that was enough. 

For an old man and a runaway, that was more than enough. 

With the slightest little smile on his face, Mick didn't turn away from the television, but he was all eyes for Nikki. "I love you too, Nikki. Now go wash that paint off your face, you look like a two dollar hooker." 

Nikki fought back a smile and stood up. "Oh, go fuck yourself, Mick." 

"Aw, but you do it so well." Mick said teasingly. 

As he stepped into the bathroom and turned off the water, Nikki looked in the mirror, and he smiled. 


End file.
